How do I let her go?
Addie heard footsteps and looked behind her. “Marcela? Hello…?”
At first no one replied, but then she heard the steps come closer, heavy, shuffling slightly. Addie wasn’t sure that speaking again was wise. She slipped off her shoes so she wouldn’t make a sound, and then she backed up slowly until she was in the sitting room.
Maybe she was overreacting, but when no one replied to her, she assumed there was a reason. If it had been Marcela or security or someone on staff, or if Eric was early, they would have replied.
Addie crouched down behind a settee, brushing away the fleeting thought of another Victorian sofa, that one with a surly Oscar Wilde under it. Thinking about Toni wasn’t helpful. Thinking about much else wasn’t helpful. Not right now.
When she saw the shadow of a man on set, she bit back the fear that Philip was here, drunk and angry again. He had showed up at her hotel room. He had been hostile on set. He had leaked photos and lies about her.
Maybe it’s Eric, early.
Maybe it’s the new security guard or—
“I know you’re here,Adelaine.” Philip sounded a few steps past drunk, and as he stalked around the set, she could see the shadow of a bottle in his hand.
Drunk. Angry. Alone.
She just had to hope that he wouldn’t see her or find her.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are, you venomous bitch.” He slurred his singsonging, but it didn’t make him less frightening.
Maybe he’ll pass out.
Please let him pass out or leave!
“Do you know what I just heard?” Philip continued as if they were having a conversation. “Myfucking rolewas cut. I’m gone before the whole season even airs. We filmed all the scenes I was going to still be in. I guess my character is being sent off on some colonialist boat or war where I’ll die.” He laughed harshly. “Whatever solution that lesbo bitch likes best.”
Addie flinched both at his words and the virulent hate in his tone.
“But guess what?” He leaned over the sofa to stare down at her. “I’ll land on my feet. Nothingyoucan do will ruin me.”
“Philip…” Addie straightened and backed away from him.
He reeked of liquor and sweat, and any sympathy she might have felt faded as he stalked toward her.
Loudly, she called out, “Is anyone here? Hello!”
“‘Is anyone here?’” he mimicked. He reached out to grab her, and she swerved, trying to put the settee between them. “You could’ve told me she was on the g’damned phone that night. I’m not a bad guy. I’m actually nice, Addie. I’m like Colin. Misunderstood.”
“Then stop saying rude things and walk away right now,” Addie countered, voice shaky.
“Let me make it up to you, and we can be friends.” Philip lurched over the sofa to grab her. “We can be the great love story. Costars date all the time. Leave her. Date me. I can pretend to like you.…”
“No!”
She hit her head as the sofa fell on her, and then something jabbed her in the back of her shoulder as she fell. Addie screamed.The sound was muffled by Philip shoving his hand over her mouth. He was leaning down, body pressing the sofa onto her. The weight was forcing whatever jabbed her shoulder deeper into the skin.
Suddenly, Philip stopped, eyes wide, expression horrified. He backed up, all the while staring at her with his mouth open like he was saying something.
Then he dropped the bottle. It rolled over the settee and spilled cool liquid all over Addie. The scent of alcohol was harsh, and her shoulder burned as the liquid hit her.
That doesn’t make sense.
Why would liquor burn my arm?
“Damn,” Philip breathed. He turned and ran, stumbling into the darkness.
